Release
by smalld1171
Summary: Inspired by all the buzz surrounding 9x23 - Dean did what he had to do, and now he's ready for his curtain call. Rated for minor swear words.


**Release**

**Inspired by all the buzz surrounding 9x23 - Dean did what he had to do, and now he's ready for his curtain call. **

_A/N: My muse has been on a very, very, very long hiatus but, even though she has been stubborn and flighty I just had to write something prior to the airing of the finale. I hope any who have a look will enjoy. Thanks._

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!**

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His back pressed up against the concrete wall he might feel like a caged animal; Sam approaching him slowly, a look of concern and apprehension decorating the landscape of his face. But he doesn't. He feels clarity, and, above all, relief that very soon all of this will be over.

He has done what he had to do; Abaddon dead, Metatron on the run, Sam and Cas safe.

He exhales, eyes closed and mind still as he slowly pushes breath through his slightly parted lips, carrying with it any doubt and calming every single molecule in his body.

He lifts his gaze as footsteps continue to cautiously plod towards him.

"You can put it down now, Dean. Please. You're done."

Yeah, he's done. Going toe to toe with Metatron has left him alive, but beat down, emotionally raw, and damn tired.

"Cas and I only want to help. Please, we can fix it, together."

No. No more. Maybe _he_ can't stand to be alone, but his brother can, and has, so it's finally time to cut the cord, take his final curtain call, and rest.

He is so over it; so done with the guilt of everything he's done and the nagging fear of what he will inevitably screw up next. Time to stop feeling anything at all.

"Nah, I'm good, dude. Nothing left to fix."

Sam is right beside him now, kneeling by his outstretched legs, the tears falling freely to moisten the features of his face. Sam's hand covers his tenderly, the blade still held tightly within his fingers. He feels his brother try fruitlessly to unfurl the digits of his hand and wishes he could make what is about to come easier for him.

"There is something wrong with you Dean, I know you can feel it, it's messing with you. Just...Cas will be here any minute and then we can...just let us help you, you don't have to go through this alone."

He sighs quietly. Oh Sammy, if you only knew how he is so not going to go through anything, alone or otherwise. Not again. Never again.

Turning to stare deeply into Sam's eyes he hopes his brother can see the unconditional love he has always had for him shine through his own, conveyed without words, one last time.

"Dean. No."

He smiles sweetly before his focus shifts to the blade and, although his body is battered, he summons the unnatural power that resides within to easily dislodge his brother's grasp of his hand, forcing himself to stand and nudging Sam gently but firmly away from his side.

He has yet to utter the words but Sam has always been a smart kid and has figured it out in record time, in tune with his big brother's state of mind and sacrificial nature in a heartbeat.

"Please, Dean. Just...would you just listen to me for a damn minute? Drop the blade and you'll see. There is a way out, I promise you. Please."

Sam starts to approach him again, eyeing the blade, his mind working feverishly to form a plan to get it away from him before he can finish the job. They circle around each other, each vying for the best position for when the moment presents itself.

"This is what I want, Sammy."

"I don't believe that, Dean, not after everything. You have never given up before so don't pick today to change that. We can start over, get back to being brothers again."

Sneaky son of a bitch, using the brother card. The thought may be tempting but it's not going to work; he hasn't forgotten how many times they have tried that already, only to wound each other over and over, deeper and deeper, again and again.

He shakes his head slowly.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam. No more. I'm so fricken' tired."

"I know. Let Cas and me figure it out while you take a break. You just need to recharge, man."

No amount of rest is going to fix it this time. It just needs to end.

He stops moving, looks directly at Sam and watches his brother's brow crinkle like it has so many times before. He trembles slightly as emotions begin to bubble up from his gut along with the overwhelming need to get some of it out, while he still can.

"Sam... I'm sorry, _so_ sorry I forced you to come back. That was the biggest mistake, and my biggest regret in my long playlist of screw ups. I love you, man, and it...well, it messes up my compass sometimes. But don't sweat it, bro, I promise...no, I _guarantee_ it will never happen again."

Cas arrives just as he looks down at his hand and stares longingly at the blade it holds; at the release it promises.

"I get why you did it, Dean, I...how about when we get outta here we sit down with a couple of brews and talk about it?"

How he wishes his brother would have made that offer sooner, before the Mark, before the First Blade. He sighs deeply, knowing it isn't Sam's fault but entirely his own. He will not allow another chance for his insecurities to ruin his brother's life.

"No, Sam."

"You're not thinking clearly Dean, it's that damn blade, it's warped things. Just... just drop it, alright?"

There is real panic fluttering through his brother's words now and his resolve almost falters, his heart clenching painfully at the devastated expression on Sam's face. His brother is slowly realizing he is running out of patented Dean Winchester strings he can pull to change things, and it shows on the lines of his face.

Another slow move of his head shakes the emotions out and reins in his moment of doubt.

"It's okay, Sammy. This is gonna make it okay, for all of us. You go live your life, the one you've always wanted and deserved, and forget about me like a bad dream... just let me fade away."

Sam is openly crying now, looking to Cas with those famous puppy dog eyes and nervously tilting his head towards him.

"Dean, what are you doing? You need to listen to your brother and let go of the blade."

He shifts his gaze, keeping Sam's proximity in his peripheral vision, to see a very concerned and confused angel gawking at him, the classic head tilt on full display.

He smiles genuinely at his one true friend.

"Hey, Cas. Um, look, no need to worry, I finally know what I'm doing. Just do me a favour and take care of Sammy, okay? That's all I need, all I've ever needed was for Sam to be safe."

Backing up he starts to distance himself from his friend and brother.

"You guys totally rock, you know that, right? I mean, you are both so awesome, I hope maybe a little bit of that was from me? Keep a look out for each other and you'll be fine."

"Don't you do it, Dean. Don't you dare! You can't bring me back just to leave me!"

They lock eyes and, even after everything he has done to destroy it, he sees love; it filters out from Sam's intense gaze, still resides in the depths of his brother's heart, and fills him with peace.

Sam pleads with tearful eyes, gentle words and outstretched limbs but his decision has been made. For once in his damn life he intends to follow through with what is meant to be instead of fighting tooth and nail to only leave death and despair in his wake. Not this time.

"Sorry Sammy, but we both know this is for the best. I'm long overdue on my expiry date and now I'm asking you, telling both of you, _not_ to save me. Do what I never had the balls to do...and let me go."

Raising the blade he breathes in deep and glances at his chest, lips curling as he envisions and then lightly touches the exact spot he intends to plunge the weapon into.

He hears both men scream his name in unison as whatever hope they had clung to that they could maneuver him away from his path is mercilessly crushed in an instant. He aches to comfort them, make them believe this is the reality they need to accept but he can't chance losing focus; pushes their painful cries to the back of his mind and trusts they will be there for each other.

The echo of their footsteps and the rush of their bodies towards his seems to run in slow motion as he closes his eyes and the blade begins its descent.

He smiles contentedly, his heart and head prepared to embrace and welcome the freedom his one final act will grant them all.

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**The End. Thanks for stopping by.**


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